In this rare old English Omnibus one that is past its prime.
Its seats so close together bring the sitters nose to nose,
And everybody’s forced to tread on everybody’s toes,
Whence cheerful conversation springs, especially from those
Who’ve corns or gout, and glare about as though you’re mortal foes,
In this nice old City Omnibus, just to beguile the time.
Then if outside for air you’d ride, the clambering to your seat
Would, if performed at Astley’s, be pronounced a “daring feat;”
For ere you’re half-way up you hear them coolly cry “All right!”
And then the “knife-board” cramps you so, with pain you can alight